TV show quotes
[The paramedics arrive after Clay's prank causes his mother to have a fatal heart attack]
I'm sorry, Mr Puppington, cardiac arrest.
She was in heaven before we got here.
No...there is no heaven... [Clay hugs him, crying. Arthur shoves him aside] I don't need anymore of your leftovers.
You'll go to hell for saying there's no heaven.
[Arthur raises his arm to slap him, but stops]
You're not even worth it.
Not worth it?
Now, would you kindly pass me the ketchup you killed your mother with?
I want to see you in my study. Now.
[Arthur gives Clay Ol' Gunny]
Clay, it's been a grand Puppington tradition that the head of the household passes down Ol' Gunny to his firstborn son. But I am not passing it onto you now because of that tradition. I am in fact ending the tradition. There will be no coming of the age hunting trip. I don't want this in my possession anymore. It's tainted. With blood.
Sure it's not just ketchup?
No, look closer. You killed your mother with this gun.
You know, it's a sin to bear false witness.
[Arthur raises his hand to strike Clay, but stops]
Oh, oh, oh, and remember the last lost sixty-third commandment: Thou shalt never forget thy loaded a gun when thou has an innocent child in the house!
[Clay flinches, waiting for Arthur to slap him. He opens his eyes and finds Arthur is gone.]
[Orel is trying to find a date to the Arms-Length Dance]
You see, I think Stephanie's kind of lost because she never had anyone special to take to the Arm’s Length Dance; and as far as I can see, bringing someone special to that is important to her happiness and maybe even mine.
[Block enters the room and starts annoying Orel.]
Shapey plea- I mean Block- Block?! [gasps] Christina! Of course! There is someone special in my life! But, I'm not supposed to like her, because she's different. Unless, you don't mind? Please give me a sign, would you mind if--
No!
Wow! Of all the things he could have said!
Are you kidding? You can't compare you and her to Orel and his little Orelette.
Why, because we're two girls, and tolerance is only a pretend theme?
No. Because she didn't care about you.
...wow. You remember it better than I do.
Yeah, I remember. When you've had my track record with love that stuff hits you like a ton of bricks. I felt bad for ya. But, if you keep playing that song, we might both get lucky tonight.
Florence, pull yourself together. It's embarrassing enough to be your friend!
Dottie...we are not friends.
These are my zebras.
Oh, boy...
Do you like them?
Uh, Florence...
I've been collecting them since I was seven.
That's sad-- I mean nice.
[At church, the title of Putty's sermon reads "Hope". He looks to the congregation, everyone looks depressed and lost. He says "Hope" in his mind repeatedly to an escalating piano note]
[thinking] Wait a minute! Orel! Orel Puppington!
[He looks through the pews and sees Orel with his leg in a cast, also sad. Putty sighs and retitles his sermon to "Hopeless".]
Happy Easter. By the look of all your pathetic mugs, I'd say you had as good a week as I had. [Quick montage of his hook-up with Florence from "Sundays"] Yep. A hum-dinger. [Florence looks away.] Well, if you remember last week's sermon, I ended it with a little cliffhanger: What was in the tomb when Mary Magdalene and company checked it out? Well, here's the answer: nothing. Nothing was in the tomb. Now, usually, nothing is a down. One big goose egg. Well, this time the goose laid a golden egg, people. Nothing meant "hope" for everyone. So the next time you look and see nothing, have a little hope for me. Amen.
Well, well, well, Dr. Quentin Xavier Potterswheel!
Clay.
Hey, Doc, we were just talking about ex-wives.
Uh, I'm a widower.
Oh, right, right. Must be nice to lose a wife to sickness and death instead of her just plain ol' getting sick of you.
No... Not so nice, especially when you're a doctor.
She just loved those painkillers! Probably didn't even realize she was infected, right Doc?
She was... quite comfortable when she passed.
"Numb", some call it! Now, me and Jesus, we like to feel the pain. Tell me, doc. Did some of those painkillers protect her against you?
What does that mean?
You know. The pain. Of you. Day in, day out, being there. With that face. Not knowing what to say. Not caring anymore. Not even knowing that you'll probably only care about her when it's finally too late. Forgetting about all those desperate- those desperate years you spent alone, your barren years when no woman would even consider resting her tired head on your shaky little shoulder. Stinking of belly semen. Why even wipe? And when you finally get one of these... [Points at Dolly and imitates a fanfare] ...coveted pieces of tail that have been built up as the grand trophy in your nothing life, you try desperately to keep it. Not to protect it! But to hoard it. To keep it away from the other wolves and jackals circling your territory! And you realize, all too soon, that you're not good enough! That maybe there was a jerk-off called Darwin after all. And that you never acknowledged his existence because you knew deep inside that you were really what you feared you were-- weak. And passive. And ultimately, broken by the ones who were made the fittest. And that through your weaknesses, you built up a poison that poisoned others around you. [About to cry] That you love. And the only true justice was to let those dominant jackals feed on you. Survive off you. [Potterswheel wipes his brow nervously with a handkerchief] If that one gets too sweaty, I've got an extra one for ya.
Uh...
Oh, come on. It's a nice one.
Clay, maybe the doctor would like to be left alone.
Oh, is that so? Well maybe you would like to put those slutty little breasts of yours right in my kisser! [Officer Papermouth puts a hand on Clay's shoulder] Ooh, the long arm of the law! [Papermouth slams him on the bar, ready to pistol whip him]
No, Roger!
Yeah, Roger, listen to the wife murderer! [he laughs again; Potterswheel grabs a scalpel and Reverend Putty grabs a bottle. Dolly leaves in a huff.] Aw, you better go too, Reves! Let the men handle this!
How would your teeth like a five finger discount on a knuckle sandwich, Puppington?!
[opens his mouth, waiting for them to smash his teeth in] Well? What are you waiting for? I'm waiting! I'm waiting! [after seeing him try to egg them on, the men leave, realizing he's not worth it] Well, it looks like the only fists that are raised in this town are pacifists! Yeah, run, get out of here! Get out of here, cowards! Look at you! Ha, ha, ha, ha!!! Where are you all going?! GET BACK HERE! YOU COME BACK HERE!!! SHOW ME THAT YOU HAVE ONE ONCE OF TESTOSTERONE BETWEEN THE THREE OF YOU!!! [he drops to his knees] With all you people as role models, no wonder my son is...sensitive.
[Bloberta is frantically searching the kitchen for Dr. Potterswheel's handkerchief]
Mommy?
Not now, Shapey. No milk.
When I'm thirsty, it feels how I feel when I'm alone.
What...?
Gosh, things sure have changed around here.
[Orel goes to the Mayor's office to propose banning eggs. The Mayor has his chair turned behind Orel]
Mr Mayor, I'm here to suggest--
Orel?
Dad?!
What're you doing here?
Y-y-you're the mayor?
Don't remind me. Stinking dead-end job...
I'm not so sure Miss Censordoll really want's eggs illegal.
But she said she did.
Well, you see, Orel, people don't always say what's on their mind.
They don't? That's silly.
Oh, don't ever call it silly, son. Not saying what's on our mind is what this country's based on.
[Orel stands stoically in Clay's study. Clay stares blankly at Orel]
[Awkward] So, uh...how are...things...Orel?
[quick and blunt] I think we should get right to the lecture and punishment because I have a lot to do.
Whoa! Mister Busy!
You had six months to talk.
The last six months were not filled with you helping some mad woman campaign against me and my job!
You don't even like your job.
Like? Like?! No-one likes their job! Have you listened to anything I've ever said in here? Does this chair absorb my voice? Do all these dead animal heads eat my words before they reach your delicate little ears?!
Can I go now?
You know that thing that you do with your hands, and mouth, and throat, and stomach? That thing called "eating?" Well, say goodbye to that forever if I lose my position in this town because of you!
I will.
Okay!! [Normally] You can go.
Reverend Moderator, citizens of Moralton, friends, I have been criticized quite intensely for the outlawing of our little gooey breakfast buddies. I have been called a calloused hunter by my esteemed opponent. Does hunting and death really pose such a horrible threat to this town? Death, dear friends, is the best thing ever! Death is the beginning of our everlasting life. The only eggs I smash are the eggs of filth, the inhuman eggs that squeeze with vile evil, through the tantalizingly moist passage of feminine foul temptation, [is now becoming more and more lustful] protruding from our mother, bit by bit, with wrongful, erotic succulence. Completely enveloped by that soiled, evil, maternal opening.
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